Another strange story comes from the same town.  “When I was on a visit to a friend in Portarlington,” writes a lady in the Journal of the American S.P.R.[4] “a rather unpleasant incident occurred to me.  At about two o’clock in the morning I woke up suddenly, for apparently no reason whatever; however, I quite distinctly heard snoring coming from under or in the bed in which I was lying.  It continued for about ten minutes, during which time I was absolutely limp with fright.  The door opened, and my friend entered the bedroom, saying, ’I thought you might want me, so I came in.’  Needless to say, I hailed the happy inspiration that sent her to me.  I then told her what I had heard; she listened to me, and then to comfort (!) me said, ’Oh, never mind; it is only grandfather!  He died in this room, and a snoring is heard every night at two o’clock, the hour at which he passed away.’  Some time previously a German gentleman was staying with this family.  They asked him in the morning how he had slept, and he replied that he was disturbed by a snoring in the room, but he supposed it was the cat.”

[Footnote 4:  For September, 1913.]

A lady, formerly resident in Queen’s Co., but who now lives near Dublin, sends the following clear and concise account of her own personal experiences in a haunted house:  “Some years ago, my father, mother, sister, and myself went to live in a nice but rather small house close to the town of ——­ in Queen’s Co.  We liked the house, as it was conveniently and pleasantly situated, and we certainly never had a thought of ghosts or haunted houses, nor would my father allow any talk about such things in his presence.  But we were not long settled there when we were disturbed by the opening of the parlour door every night regularly at the hour of eleven o’clock.  My father and mother used to retire to their room about ten o’clock, while my sister and I used to sit up reading.  We always declared that we would retire before the door opened, but we generally got so interested in our books that we would forget until we would hear the handle of the door turn, and see the door flung open.  We tried in every way to account for this, but we could find no explanation, and there was no possibility of any human agent being at work.

“Some time after, light was thrown on the subject.  We had visitors staying with us, and in order to make room for them, my sister was asked to sleep in the parlour.  She consented without a thought of ghosts, and went to sleep quite happily; but during the night she was awakened by some one opening the door, walking across the room, and disturbing the fireirons.  She, supposing it to be the servant, called her by name, but got no answer:  then the person seemed to come away from the fireplace, and walk out of the room.  There was a fire in the grate, but though she heard the footsteps, she could see no one.

“The next thing was, that I was coming downstairs, and as I glanced towards the hall door I saw standing by it a man in a grey suit.  I went to my father and told him.  He asked in surprise who let him in, as the servant was out, and he himself had already locked, bolted, and chained the door an hour previously.  None of us had let him in, and when my father went out to the hall the man had disappeared, and the door was as he had left it.